Birth of Evil
by lady patronus
Summary: AU, one shot:The night Tom Riddle becomes Lord Voldemort...(my version)"Fear me who has been born this night... I am Lord Voldemort"


**A/N:** _Again, this is an Alternate Universe or Alternate History fic. In cannon, Tom would probably never fancy a Ravenclaw... but then again, it's just as likely as Draco Malfoy fancying Hermione Granger (in cannon)._  
  
**Disclaimer:** _I do not own anything but the plot, Virginia Wesley, and Tom's insanity... _  
  
•  
  
[Birth of Evil]  
  
Stupid Mudbloods.  
  
Stupid family.  
  
Stupid desires.  
  
Stupid life.  
  
Tom Riddle walked briskly down the hall, thinking dark thoughts. The Head Boy got a lot of stares, as he stalked into the Great Hall. Tom Riddle was a hansom boy of around 17, and he was the heartthrob of the school. But nobody knew him, not really. Nobody knew the dark thoughts he had, or the disturbing things that ran through his mind.   
  
To say the least, Tom Riddle was half mad.   
  
"Hi, Tom!" someone called.  
  
He just kept walking as if nothing had happened. He sat down at the Slytherin table and stared at Dumbledore, sitting up on the teacher's table, laughing at something Professor Flitwick had said. The man was always watching him. He swear, one day he'd…   
  
_One day I'll kill him, one day I'll torture him, one day I'll have him lying in his own pool of blood, begging for mercy. One day…_  
  
But he didn't say this aloud.   
  
Suddenly Dumbledore's eyes flashed towards him, a knowing glance behind his half-moon spectacles. Tom turned away, cursing himself. He wanted to look back, but he was afraid.   
  
_I'll kill him… One day…_  
  
A couple of girls had sat near him, and he eyed them suspiciously. The girls were so thickheaded thought he was looking at them. They batted their eyes and put on pouty faces. It was pathetic; he wanted to gag.   
  
But then another girl sat down across from him.   
  
"Hi, Tom." She smiled, and started helping herself to some bacon and eggs. It was Gina, short for Virginia. He had always liked Virginia. She had a thick red main of hair and soft brown eyes that he felt he could just melt into.  
  
"Gina-" He smiled. "How are you?" He finally started helping himself to some breakfast.  
  
"I'm good, thanks." Virginia Wesley was the Head Girl, she was in Ravenclaw. "Oh," she exclaimed, as if she suddenly had an epiphany. "We have to plan the Yule Ball this year," she said, wagging her fork at him.  
  
"Okay, when?"  
  
"Let's say… Tomorrow afternoon around 4:30ish… In the library, near the charms section?"  
  
"Perfect." He bit into a roll.  
  
They ate in silence for a while.  
  
"You know what's funny?" Gina asked.  
  
"What?" He took a drink of his orange juice.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore said that it was good we were working together. He said that it would give me a chance to watch over you."   
  
Tom choked on his drink, spilling a bit down his uniform. _Graceful,_ he thought to himself. "Why?" He did a quick cleaning charm.  
  
"I don't know. I think he thinks you're evil or something." She laughed. It was a beautiful laugh, like bells ringing on a stormy winters day; they would always guide you back.   
  
Whenever he had been contemplating on dark things her laugh would always guide him back out of it.  
  
"But I wouldn't mind him, Professor Dumbledore is a little off." She taped her temple and laughed again.  
  
Tom smiled.  
  
Tom sat in the library by the charms section. It was 5:00. Gina was never late.   
  
Maybe there was something wrong? Tom started to worry. He had come all prepared, the notebook they held all their meeting ideas in. He was working on his homework, while he waited. He dipped his ink in the inkpot and scribbled some words on his parchment. He wrote furiously, and the tip suddenly broke. He grabbed another one, cursing himself. Not knowing where she was ate away at him. And then he heard it. The sound of bells ringing.   
  
Gina walked into the library, hanging off the arm of Michael Black, another Slytherin, but Tom had always despised him; they had be rivals since the beginning.  
  
They walked up to him, Michael smiling triumphantly, as if bragging, "Why, hello Tom. It's nice to see such a studious person in the library at 5 on a Saturday afternoon."  
  
"Tom, I'm sorry I'm late. I accidentally tripped on the stairs and sprained my ankle. Michael happened to be passing by and helped me up to the Hospital Wing."   
  
"I'm sure," he muttered. Knowing Michael, he probably used magic to move the step slightly so that she would trip and he could help her and make her late for their meeting.  
  
"Well, now that you're here, we have some things to discus."  
  
"Oh, Tom, why don't we meet tomorrow? It is, after all, a Saturday, and we have plenty of time till the Ball. Can we meet again tomorrow? Around this time?"  
  
Tom had the urge to slap her and say no. Then he wanted to curse the living daylights out of Michael. What would it be… the Cruciartus? Or the Imperious? Or better yet, the Killing Curse? He grinned inwardly.  
  
But instead he said, "Sure, I'll just, sit here and finish my homework then." He smiled a fake smile at them, making a grimace at Michael.  
  
"Well," said Michael, "Seeing as you're free, why don't we go down to the three broomsticks for a drink?"  
  
"Oh, I'd love too! Tom?" She had thought that he had meant all three of them.  
  
"Oh- oh, no. I couldn't, I need to finish this." He smiled sweetly at them, clenching his teeth at Michael, thinking of all the things he could do to his body with a knife.  
  
"Alright then, your funeral," said Michael, that triumphant smirk on his face. "Ta-at." He waved pompously.  
  
"See ya tomorrow, Tom!" Gina waved and the two of them walked out of the library, smiling at each other.  
  
But Tom did not stay there and finish his homework. He had already done it. Instead he followed them.  
  
They sat for two and a half hours talking in the three broomsticks, drinking butterbeer after butterbeer. Tom stood there in the cold, peeking through the window. He had stood there for so long he though he would freeze in his place, just like his heart had. He felt heartbroken. She had blown him off then spent hours drinking and talking to Michael. In his mind he spat out his name.  
  
Finally they got up to leave. Michael helped her on with her coat and led her out the door. But before Michael went on the edge of his vision of the window, he saw him turn back and pull out something from his pocket. It looked like a bag of money. Michael shook it triumphantly at the three boys at the table over. The boys smirked with him, giving him the finger. He gave it right back, laughing. Tom didn't like the look of this.   
  
He followed them into a park. It was snowing lightly. Tom noticed that snowflakes got caught in Gina's eyelashes and her hair, making her look like the goddess of winter. They sat down on a bench and continued to talk. Tom hid in a bush behind them. He studied her carefully. She pulled her ear as she laughed; bells tolled.   
  
She pulled her ear.   
  
She only did that when she was excited or nervous. But he didn't think it was nervousness. No- she was cuddling up to him to nicely to be nervous around him. He saw her flush red, eyes turned down, smiling. He saw Michael pull her chin up and they looked at each other for a moment, and to Tom it happened in slow motion, each moment beating in his head as if it were going to explode, as he gently touched his lips to hers.   
  
Anger boiled in him.  
  
How dare he.   
  
How dare he. How dare she! She was the Head Girl! She had duties! She couldn't go around kissing random guys! He seethed as their lips stayed locked, he felt his evil side rise up in him, and enfold him in its darkness. He stayed there watching them, and they never broke apart. His thoughts grew darker and darker, and slowly, his sanity slid away from him.   
  
"Imperio!" he whispered with such force, and the light shot at him. He saw Michael go limp, slightly, and then Tom willed him to go back to kissing.   
  
He complied.  
  
Tom made him kiss a little more aggressively. And then start kissing down her neck, leaning into her. He watched amused as Virginia pushed him away, and stared at him incredulously.   
  
"Maybe we should go back," she said quietly.  
  
"But honey the fun's just started!" Michael pulled her back into his embrace, his actions and slurred words seeming as if he were drunk. His arms slid under her shirt.  
  
"Michael! Stop!" She pushed him away and stood up. She smacked him in the face. He clutched his face, anger rising in his eyes.  
  
"I'll teach you to slap me!" He got up and pushed her to the ground, and he toward above her, his wand drawn.   
  
Tom laughed, and stepped out from behind the bush. "Very good, Michael, very good." Tom patted him on the head, as one would do to a puppy who had finally learned not to do his duty in the house. "Go hump the tree or something." Tom waved his had away and Virginia watched to her horror as Michael embraced a tree. People on the other side of the tree watched in disgust and moved away.   
  
"Tom? Tom, what's wrong with him?"  
  
"Him? Oh, I don't know." He grinned manically. "Now, do my eyes deceive me? Or did I just see the two of you snogging? I never would have imagined you as one to do such a thing in public." He looked down on her, his voice condescending.  
  
"I don't know what happened. At first he was really nice and sweet. And then he just… Oh, I don't know." She looked helpless, tears welling up in her eyes.   
  
"There, there. It'll be alright." He patted her head, like he had done to Michael.  
  
Gina gave him a funny look. "Tom? Are you okay?"  
  
"Okay?" He threw open his arms, "I'm fine! I'm happy! Michael is humping a tree!" He laughed insanely again. It sent shivers up Virginia's spine.  
  
She chuckled nervously, "Maybe I should go now…" She started backing away, her hand in her pocket, obviously on her wand.  
  
"Why? The fun's just getting started!" He laughed, and Gina looked frightened.  
  
"Tom? Tom, please stop. You're scaring me!"   
  
His eyes narrowed, his face turned dark, his stance was menacing, "I thought you knew me better." He drew his wand, and she hesitantly drew hers.  
  
"Please, Tom, don't make me have to use magic."  
  
"See, that is where you and I are different. Go ahead curse me, I want you to." He held out his wand, tip side facing him in an unarmed stance.   
  
"Tom, don't do that, please." Her wand hand grew shaky; Tom could see red creeping up her neck, like fear, seeping up through her. He was delighted to see this; this fear, it was the oxygen he breathed on.  
  
"Fine, alright, you want the tip facing you? That's all well and good." He grinned evilly, shifting his wand around. "This is all the better."  
  
She stepped back, ready to make a run for it.   
  
"Naugh, uh uh!" He waved his wand. "Don't move. You know I'm not afraid to use a curse on you, as you may have to me."  
  
He called with out looking back at him, "Michael," Michael trudged toward him, and slumped where he stood, eyes glazed; there was nothing in them.  
  
"What have you done to him?" she asked fearfully. She didn't dare step back, but she didn't want to move closer either.  
  
"Oh, nothing. Just a simple curse. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's called the Imperious curse," She gave a small shriek; sharp, desperate noises came from her as she breathed.  
  
"Please, stop it!" she begged him, her wand arm shaking violently.  
  
"Stop what? I haven't done anything to you… yet," he added, enjoying the effect it had on her. She cried out, and turn and ran.  
  
"I said not to move!" He threw a leg-binding curse and she fell to the ground. She desperately clawed her way through the snow. But Tom caught up to her in no time.  
  
He spun her around, and grabbed her neck, making her face him, "If you're fearful now, you shouldn't have don't that." His voice sent shivers up her spine. Tom felt them. He laughed, "Fear me, Virginia. The more you do, the worse it gets."  
  
"The worse what?" she asked fearfully and the smile on his face grew wider.  
  
He picked her clean off the ground, holding her by her throat, "My hunger," he whispered to her, and she quailed. "My hunger for fear. This power over you, to make you fear, to make you squirm, to make you do what ever I want."   
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why? WHY?" He laughed, and how she shuddered because of his laugh. "Because of you, my dear Virginia Wesley. Because you make me do it. Because you act like you do-- my friend one moment, and then snogging with my worst enemy the next." His grip on her tightened.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." She struggled and gasped for air as his grip tightened even more.  
  
"Of course you do." He watched her struggle, relishing in the pain in her eyes. "Don't worry," he added, "I won't kill you this way." She started screaming, piercing screams that interrupted the once silent, snowy evening. He slapped her, but she only screamed louder. His hold was now a death grip. She choked, her screams suddenly silent. He dropped her and she fell to the ground with a thud, clutching her throat and gasping. He pointed his wand at her.  
  
"If you scream, you'll regret it."   
  
She didn't utter a noise, she didn't move.   
  
"Michael?"   
  
"Yes, Lord Voldemort?" Michael asked in a stoic voice.  
  
"Will you do the honors?" He watched as her mouth turned into a perfect 'o' shape, ready to scream again, but before she could, Michael said in a monotone voice, "Crucio."  
  
And she howled in pain, shattering the silence, but a simple silencing charm shut her up. He watched as she writhed and jerked on the ground, mouth screaming in silent pain.  
  
"Why you ask?" he asked to the shaking body, "Because you make me so… and because I can…"  
  
He laughed out into the night, and the once cheery streetlamps suddenly went out. It was pitch black. The stars, so far away, twinkled peacefully, too far to see the torture far below.   
  
And in the dark, for hours and hours, Tom Riddle watched as Virginia wreathed in pain. He saw when her eyes faded and her body go limp, movements now only made by the shocks of the curse. He laughed as he took the spell off, and felt a surge of power when he saw she didn't move. He was overcome by the power flowing through him, coursing, beating; loud reverberating drumbeats in his ears, running through his veins. And with it came greed; the want for more.  
  
More power.  
  
The pull was so strong, and he gave into it. He took the imperious curse off Michael and watched the horror spread on his face as he came to and saw Virginia not moving. He quivered with excitement when Michael's eyes rested on Tom's outstretched hand holding his wand… pointing at what once was Virginia; her lifeless body. He bathed in the rush he got when Michael pieced the two together, and his eyes dilated, now filled with fear.  
  
"Tom-"  
  
"You know what Michael, you were always a pain in the ass. But don't worry, I'm going to put a stop to that…" Without flinching he preformed the curse.   
  
He again felt that quiver of excitement as he spoke the words and watched Michael's life leave his body. "Avada kadavra!"  
  
Tom laughed into the silent night, his bone chilling sound reverberating off tree trunks and back to him, where he emanated them.   
  
"What's that?" a girl whispered, as she walked down the path with her boyfriend.  
  
"I don't know. It sounds like laughing."  
  
"Yeah… but not happy laughing." She shivered.  
  
"Let's go check it out. Someone may be in trouble."  
  
The couple hurried down the cobblestone path, and found another snow lined path branching off, but all the lights down that way were off; pitch black. The laugh was coming from there. The girl shivered, "No, please, let's not go there."  
  
"What if someone needs our help?" She reluctantly let him pull her through the darkness, the maniac laugh surrounding them.  
  
"Who's there?" the boy called out.  
  
Suddenly the lights flickered back on, and the girl let out a piercing screamed.   
  
There in the snow, lay Virginia Wesley, lying in a pool of her own blood. And beside her, twisted in an odd position, pointing to the sky was Michael Black. And in the sky, there was a dark green mark. It was a skull with a serpent protruding form it's mouth. And in the smoke directly above the dead girl hung a thick haze, white words written in it, alarming against its background.  
  
_Fear me, who has been born this night…_   
  
And in piercing dark green below that;   
  
_I am Lord Voldemort_  
  
_**FIN**_  
•  
  
_Please tell me what you think! Out of all the fiction I've written, I believe this one is my favorite, so don't flame me too bad... though you are welcome to!   
  
I hope you all didn't roll your eyes at Virginia Wesley smirks I wrote this before I found out Ginny's real name is GINERVA (poor girl...), but no matter. The name still implies the symbolism (is that the right word?) to Ginny Weasley.  
  
REVIEW!  
  
[.lady patronus.]_  



End file.
